Goodbye
by injoythouhastlived
Summary: The greatest king the realm has had is dead, and his son is left to take his place. The kingdom mourns at his funeral, especially the new king, Legolas. One-shot of Thranduil's funeral.


The dreaded day came far faster than he had expected. It seemed like mere rather than days later when Legolas was dressed in all black, as near the entire population of his realm gathered around in the graveyard in the same garb. The crown was upon his head—oh, how he hated the thing—and his chin tilted up, as his father's would be, because that was all he was: and elfling impersonating his father, standing in for the king gone too soon.

"My King." At first he didn't respond—the king was not him, he was the prince.

"My King..."

He jolted at the realization that he was indeed the king, and that the person was talking to him. He turned slowly, making sure to keep the calm mask in place as he looked at the elleth who had spoken to him. "Yes?"

"It is your turn to pay your respects, my King."

He looked around. All the others had gone already, and he was the only one left. All eyes were on him. He shuddered slightly under their gazes and thanked the elleth softly before going to the coffin. It was beneath a bough of trees, hidden from the world by branches and vines, secluded from the crowd. He stepped inside, pushing the vines aside and ducking to make sure the crown did not catch on any of the low branches, and let the vines fall back in place behind him.

The coffin—he shuddered slightly at the sound of the word in his mind—was of a dark wood, carvings in the sides made by his best carpenters in patterns of swirling vines and flowers. And, worst of all, at the moment the lid was open, and he could see his face.

The proud king, the greatest king that the wood had ever had, was pale as moonlight and so, so still. In life he had never been so still, always absentmindedly tapping his fingers or his foot as, even when he relaxed, his mind worked on problems: taxes, trades, patrols, all of it stored within his mind in a constant knot that never remained untangled for long. But now he was still, his chest not rising or falling, and his hands limp as they were clasped over his chest, holding his sword.

"Ada." It was the first time he had seen him since his actual death, since the guards had dragged his body away, taken it from him as he screamed and fought, because _it was his ada, and he was going to be fine and they had to leave him here because he was going to wake up if they just gave him a little longer-_

"Ada," he repeated again, his voice small, and he stood rooted to the spot, as if expecting a response. "Ada."

Nothing.

He slowly forced himself to walk towards the coffin, reaching out with a trembling hand to touch his father's cold cheek.

"Ada, I-I'm so sorry..." he whispered, shaking. "I-I..." He smoothed some of the hair away from Thranduil's face, tucking it behind a pointed ear. "I-I'm so sorry I c-couldn't take c-care of you better..."

It felt like there was a knife in his heart, buried deep in his chest and his heart continued to struggle to beat around it. He felt his knees beginning to weaken so he slowly lowered himself onto them to avoid falling, holding the cold, bony hand that had once been warm and soothing, running through his hair or dispelling his worries with a simple touch.

"I'm so sorry." He closed his eyes as tears burned them, threatening to spill. "I'm so sorry."

The tears began to run down his face and he shuddered, holding the hand to his cheek.

"I need you...please. I need you," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. All his life he had had at least his ada, his beloved ada. He could not live without him...this he knew, for he had tried thousands of times to be independent and alone and always had ended up falling back into Thranduil's embrace. "Please, come back...come back. I can't do this without you."

There was, of course, no response, and the fingers within his hand did not move as he desperately wanted them to.

Legolas finally broke down, clutching at his father's hand as he collapsed into sobs.

It was nearly an hour later when he stood, having carefully wiped the salty tear tracks from his face, and adjusted his robes, his expression still full of pain. He barely held back another sob as he saw his father's face again.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered again, putting the cold hand carefully back over the sword. He leaned down and kissed his father's cool forehead gently, tracing his cheek. "I l-love you s-so much."

He carefully picked a large green leaf from one of the branches above them and placed it under his father's hand as well, on top of his sword. "I love you." It was a broken whimper, a final plea for him to come back even though he knew it was impossible/

Before he could decide against it he closed the lid, letting his fingers rest on the wooden leaves, feeling numb as he traced the designs with his fingers. After another moment he closed his eyes, forcing himself to turn and leave.

He was gone.

He had forgotten he was supposed to give a speech.

Everything from the last few days was blurry in a haze of grief, but Galion swore he had told him, and Legolas knew he couldn't argue. The people expected a few words from their new king; it was to be expected.

So he was stood upon the podium-like setup at the middle of the cemetery, all eyes on him, and he shifted his hands nervously.

"I did not want this." His voice was soft, but it echoed through the grounds in ripples so all could hear it, much like his father's had. "Believe me when I say I never wanted this." His hands clenched. "He was far too good for this, to deserve any of this—he was so good."

There were murmurs of agreement from among the crowd, and he saw a small, sad smile on Galion's face as he sat in the front row.

"I do not hope to match his kingship, for I know 'tis impossible. And I am not going to tell you it will be okay, for I do not know what the future will bring. But I shall tell you this.

"We must fight on. This is a huge loss, believe me, I of all people know that-" He closed his eyes. "But we must fight on. We cannot let this destroy us, nor this darkness defeat us. He did not fight so hard and so long for us to give up now."

He opened his eyes again. "We will fight for this forest and it's light, for what he fought for for so long-" He choked slightly and brought a hand to his mouth, trying to hide his shaking. "We must win. For him. He wanted to see this forest restored, and now that he is gone I will see it done for him."

He felt tears building quickly again, so he muttered a hasty 'thank you' before retreating to his seat, where Galion and Tauriel were quickly by his side. He ignored their hushed words of comfort and let his elbows rest on his knees, his posture slumped and tired and about as un-kingly as it could get, but he found he did not care. He buried his face in his hands, blonde hair falling as a curtain to hide him from anyone and everyone as silent tears ran down his face. The coffin was brought out and he found he couldn't bear to look as it was lowered into the ground, and soft sobs were heard from the crowd in mourning for the loss of their greatest king.

He swallowed thickly as all were invited to come and throw in a handful of dirt—it was expected that he would go first. He stood and slowly straightened, and wiped the tears from his face before going to the deep hole where the coffin sat. He stared at the leaves for another moment, the thought of his father in that box that they were going to bury making his heart hurt, before tossing a handful or dirt in and speaking the words, barely audible.

"Goodbye, Ada."

_A/N: Here, have a sad little thing I did for Tumblr.  
Thinking of changing my username to i-go-to-find-the-sun-legolas, to avoid confusion between this and my Tumblr-would that be okay with everyone?_

_Anyway, please review! :)_


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